


dirty paws

by AkiSutaHatter



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: A thing I wrote a while ago when I was thinking about DnD a lot, Character Study, Gen, I love this character, Incredibly pretentious prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:20:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22563142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkiSutaHatter/pseuds/AkiSutaHatter
Summary: There’s something strange about her that takes a few looks to put your finger on.~A character study for my current DnD character who owns my whole heart~





	dirty paws

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically a little prose character study because my current DnD character is my favourite that I have ever created. seriously i love her so much, this will absolutely not be the last bit of pretentious prose i post about her

There’s something strange about her that takes a few looks to put your finger on. 

At first glance, the blue-skinned girl appears to be mostly elf-like. Her ears are pointed, her hair is almost to her waist, her features are delicate; as if they were painted onto her face with a fine artist’s brush. She’s not particularly tall, but tall enough to be dismissed as an ordinary half-elf. Well, except for the aforementioned blue skin.

A second look allows the viewer to notice something distinctly...odd, about the girl. There’s something about her that gives the impression that she’s underwater, even when standing as far from water as it is possible to get. Her skin glistens as if she’s just stepped out of a lake and some water has remained clinging to her body, and yet her clothes do not seem to be wet in the slightest. When she turns her head, her midnight blue hair moves slowly as if it is floating behind her in water - no matter how sudden her movement. She walks with an unsettling grace, not quite dancing and yet there remains a dancer-like quality to her light, fleeting steps. Often, there is no trace of her passing left behind; those who have glimpsed her only for a moment are left wondering if she was ever really there at all.

Those who look long enough to catch her scattered attention are often given a warm and welcoming smile, a curving of light blue lips that lights up her mismatched eyes. Another peculiarity that one may not notice without careful observation. Those that know her well know that even when her form changes, the eyes remain the same - one a green as pale as seaglass, one the colour of darkest emerald. 

When she introduces herself as Lynlea, her voice sounds familiar. It may take a while to recognise where you have heard it before, but most have - it has a quality that reminds the listener of small waves crashing against a seashore, underneath her light and lilting tone. It is the voice of someone who has never really understood the concept of shouting, soft as if each word spoken is new to her. There is something calming about it, and unsettling at the same time.

After a single, brief encounter, you might consider her a polite and civilised girl (even if she does come off as a little odd and perhaps not entirely there). It is easy for someone to dismiss the evidence of their own eyes if the details are small enough to pass over, because it is more comfortable. More reassuring to consider the stranger an ordinary person with some peculiar qualities - momentarily remarkable, but forgotten quickly. After all, there is something about her presence which is simultaneously comforting and disconcerting; like a hearthfire that is too hot, too close to burning anyone who seeks its heat for safety. Or really, like a peaceful mountain stream that quickly descends into rapids with no warning.

It’s her gaze, you realise - there’s something in the way she looks at you, at the things around you. Like she’s observing; as though she’s noticing things that other people can’t. It sends shivers down your spine, because sometimes it feels like Lynlea is looking right through you. You can just tell that the world she sees is not the one that you live in, and it’s frightening.

There is a wildness to her, something intangible that reminds you of a forest - a forest where the branches of the trees are so tightly thatched overhead that no light can break through, where the sounds of birdsong and insects and wild creatures overlap into a cacophony of competing noises, somehow discordant and beautiful at the same time. If you meet her in a city, there’s an inherent feeling that it’s... _ wrong,  _ somehow. Like she shouldn’t be there, like spotting a blade of grass in the middle of a sea of concrete. She brings a sense of nature with her wherever she goes.

That’s why many people take one look and hurry on, never looking back. Lynlea reminds them of something wild, and strange, and unknowable.

Something it’s easier to forget about.


End file.
